Chapter 1
Lena
It’s three in the morning and the bar is finally empty. I sigh wearily as I collect the empty glasses from the tables, wiping away the spilled beer as I go. The crowd was particularly rowdy tonight, and that’s saying something. I work at the clubhouse for the Iron Vultures, a local motorcycle club that’s notorious for their partying and debauchery. The nights are long, and the pay is poor, but the tips are good. I also get free accommodation in the apartment block next door, which belongs to the club. As soon as I turned eighteen, the foster system pretty much kicked me out on my ass, so I didn’t have a lot of options or job prospects.
I’ve been working here for a year now. Most of the guys know better than to try it on with me, which is a relief since most of the barmaids have to contend with overly handsy customers on a nightly basis. Zeke broke the fingers of the last guy who touched me without my permission. Zeke is the president of the Iron Vultures, and he’s pretty protective of me, to say the least. Although I’ve done nothing to encourage him, Zeke has laid claim to me. I’ve done my best to avoid his advances, but I don’t know how much longer he’ll wait. He’s made it clear that he wants me to be his woman and says that I’m his, whether I like it or not.
Maybe there’s something wrong with me because I’m not sure why I keep turning him down. He’s attractive, tall, and well-muscled with piercing blue eyes and ice blonde hair. Most of the women here fall at his feet. But there’s something about him that scares me. He’s got a mean, violent streak that I’ve witnessedfirsthand, although he’s never directed that rage at me. Zeke treats me like a princess.
My colleague, Trish, is green with envy that Zeke has chosen me. She’d love nothing more than to be his old lady and has told me as much. As a self-proclaimed club bunny, she’s jealous of the women who manage to get with the bikers. She’s already clocked off for the night, leaving with the latest conquest in a string of prospects that she’s laid claim to. I think she mostly took the job to get closer to the guys because she certainly doesn’t pull her weight behind the bar. Like a band groupie, she fawns over the bikers, desperate for their approval and to spend a night with them. Perhaps that’s what Zeke likes about me, the fact that I’m not interested in any of the bikers.
I can’t deny that I’m attracted to Zeke. I’ll admit that I’ve imagined what it would be like to sleep with him on more than one occasion, but I’m not ready for that kind of commitment—to Zeke or the club. Being his old lady means something more than just being a girlfriend. Perhaps if I just give in and have sex with him, we’ll have some fun, and he’ll get over the idea of us being a couple.
With that in mind, I down a shot of tequila for some liquid courage before locking up and walking determinedly toward Zeke’s house across the road. As expected, he’s still up, having been one of the last to leave the club. The lights are on, and I can hear music coming from inside. It’s a regular occurrence that he hosts private after-parties at his place, picking out the most attractive club girls to hang out with him and his men. It occurs to me then that Zeke could already be hooking up with someone, and I lose my nerve, turning around to leave.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I hear Zeke’s confident drawl from behind me. I turn to look at him, standingin the doorway, practically filling it. He smiles a slow, easy smile at me, as if he knows exactly why I came tonight. “Come on in,” he commands.
Feeling stupid, I do as he tells me. The air is cloying with the smell of weed. Three club girls wearing just their underwear sit on the laps of Zeke’s cronies while two others dance in front of them. On the table, there’s a mirror with lines of coke cut on it. One of the women leans forward and snorts a line before falling back on the couch, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the man whose lap she’s sat on is playing with her breasts. He shrugs her bra off, exposing her pink, pert nipples, looking me directly in the eye as if in challenge.
My cheeks flush, and I immediately regret coming. This isn’t my scene.
“Look who I found,” Zeke says, throwing an arm over my shoulder and pulling me close. He smells of stale sweat and cigarettes and I instinctively recoil.
Trish stops dancing and scowls. Clearly, she’d been hoping to upgrade to Zeke tonight, and I’ve ruined her plans. “Finally decided you’re not too good for us?” she asks snarkily.
“I never said…”
“Ignore her, she’s just jealous, baby,” Zeke interrupts. If looks could kill, Trish would murder me right here. “Come, sit,” Zeke says, dragging me onto his lap and pushing the others on the couch out of the way. His hand on my waist feels like a brand upon my skin.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
I move away as much as I can, sliding off his lap to sit beside him, but he keeps his hold on me, unwilling to let go now that he has me here. Zeke clicks his fingers, and one of the clubgirls hands the mirror over to him. He cuts several lines of coke, taking the biggest one for himself before offering it to me.
“No, thanks,” I say, shaking my head. I’ve never done drugs, and I don’t intend to start now.
“Lame,” Trish snorts. “This party is getting boring!” she declares. “I want some fun!”
With her eyes never leaving Zeke, she strolls over to the other dancing club bunny and proceeds to grind against her. The other girl seems pretty out of it, but she happily dances too, and when Trish kisses her, she kisses her back enthusiastically, putting on a show. The men watch with predatory eyes as the women perform for them.
“I think I should go…” I say, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. When I thought about coming and hooking up with Zeke, I wasn’t imagining this. I’m no prude, but I don’t want this.
“Leave us,” Zeke commands to the others.
“Come on, ladies, hot tub time,” Spike, Zeke’s VP, says. The women follow him and the other two men, giggling and throwing off their clothes as they head outside. The woman whose breasts are still exposed and her man remain. He picks her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carrying her up the stairs, presumably to a bedroom, leaving Zeke and me alone.
“Alone at last, darlin’. I knew you’d come to your senses eventually,” Zeke says, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
My heart is pounding. This is all wrong. I no longer want this. Does Zeke expect us to hook up right here on the couch while all his buddies are in the house and could walk in on us at any minute? Perhaps he expects them to join in at some point.Does he think that I’ll make out with the other girls like Trish? I love women, but I have no interest in them sexually.
Zeke leans in and kisses me, pushing his tongue in my mouth. His strong arms pull me close in a vice-like grip that I can’t escape. He paws at my chest, squeezing my breasts painfully, making me yelp.
“You like that, don’t you?” he growls, moving to kiss and bite my neck, giving me a hickey.
I put my hands on his chest, trying to push him back. “Zeke, please, stop.”
“Don’t be a tease, we both know why you came here,” he says, not stopping as he fiddles with the button on my jeans, trying to undo it.
“I know, but not like this,” I say, feeling desperate. I need him to stop. I need this to be over.
